


Lip Service

by susanowa (panickyintheuk)



Series: Iron Out The Kinks [3]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: BDSM Scene, Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, Identity Porn, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Sex Work, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7585324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panickyintheuk/pseuds/susanowa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Dear Mistress Virginia,</i> </p><p>  <i>Thank you again for organizing my sessions with Master Iron. They’ve been amazing so far, but this time I’d like to request a role play scenario...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lip Service

**Author's Note:**

> For bingo square O1, 'kink: dirty talk'.

**from** : nomad@guerrillamail.net  
**to** : mistressvirginia@sexcauldron.ny.biz 

_Dear Mistress Virginia,_

_Thank you again for organizing my sessions with Master Iron. They’ve been amazing so far, but this time I’d like to request a role play scenario..._

* * *

He was wearing a hood today instead of the usual mask. It was close-fitting, with cut-outs for the eyes and mouth. He was also wearing what looked to Steve like a very nice wool suit, a pale blue-grey. It fit perfectly, it must belong to him -- the dungeon probably had all kinds of costumes, but this looked _tailored_. They were in a different room than usual, one that could conceivably have been an office -- he was leaning nonchalantly against a desk. Steve wondered if the room was set up this way all the time or if they'd had it brought in specially.

After a few moments of silence, Steve cleared his throat. “You wanted to see me, Master?”

“You can call me Sir today,” he said kindly, half-stepping out of character. It was strange to hear his voice without it being muffled and echoey from the gas mask. He had it exactly right -- Steve hadn’t told him who he was supposed to be, but maybe he’d guessed somehow? Or maybe Steve was just projecting, seeing and hearing what he wanted.

'Sir' was a good choice, though, close enough to what he wanted but not quite what he would call him in real life, still generic and impersonal, still not assigning any name to the fantasy. That was safer. And it was definitely better than 'Master', which Steve had never gotten used to. It was fine usually -- in most of their sessions there wasn't very much talking at all, particularly from him -- but he thought it might have spoiled the mood this time around.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” Steve repeated.

“Yes. Do you know why you’re here?”

Steve stepped forward nervously. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, on the contrary. I wanted to thank you for your work.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I was very pleased with what you did. You have a lot of talent.” Steve looked away, shook his head. “No, you do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” He paused. "Come here."

Steve did.

"Get on your knees," Sir said, in the same tone, gentle but commanding.

Steve fell to his knees. He made a sound without meaning to, as though he wasn't totally in control of himself anymore -- that happened, in sessions, but not usually so quickly. Usually it took a fair amount of spanking, not just a few words, before he started to unravel like this. Maybe fantasy could be more powerful than sensation.

"Good," Sir said, "that's perfect."

Steve pressed his lips together to stop any more traitorous sounds from escaping.

"Would you like to come a little closer, so I can touch you?" Sir asked -- a question, not a command, but his voice was still full of that intoxicating self-assurance. Steve walked forwards on his knees. 

Sir put a hand on his head, like you might with a loyal dog. That was a -- a strange thought, but not bad. "That's good," Sir said again. "You want to please me, don't you?"

"Yes," Steve said, his voice wavering slightly. "Sir," he added hastily.

"It's all right. I'm very happy with you. Just stay there for a while. Don't move."

Steve did, but after a while his breath started coming heavier and heavier, as though he were exerting himself instead of just kneeling quietly on the floor.

"You okay?" Sir said -- not quite concerned, just solicitous. "You want to do something else?"

Steve knew exactly what he wanted, and he couldn't quite stop himself from saying it. “I want to suck you.”

Sir's hand tightened, just briefly, in his hair, then relaxed. “We can’t do that, but… here.” He put out two fingers from his free hand -- they were nice fingers, clever and long, with clean, manicured nails, but calloused too, a little marred. They could easily have belonged to Mr Stark -- all he was missing was the Brass Rat. It was easy to imagine. Steve took them into his mouth.

Sir’s hand still rested on top of his hair, just gently. Steve shuffled forward on his knees, and put his hands on the back of Sir’s thighs.

He used his tongue to explore the seam where the fingers met, pulled off and sucked at the ends, then took them back into his mouth. He couldn't fool himself that it was what he really wanted, but it felt good anyway, and he tried to make it feel good for Sir, too. Sir let him do it, for a while, strong hand at the back of Steve's skull, making encouraging comments. Finally, though, he made a fist full of Steve's hair to keep his head still, and then he turned his two fingers over. He crooked them, so that the tips were stroking the roof of Steve's mouth. It was utterly strange, almost ticklish, but more concentrated than that. Steve's head jerked involuntarily against the grip in his hair, and it pulled at the roots, sending jolts of competing sensation throughout his body.

"Shh," said Sir, loosening his grasp and stroking Steve's hair soothingly before removing his hand, but leaving the fingers in his mouth. "You good?"

"Mm," Steve hummed, speech being impossible.

Sir withdrew his fingers and pressed his thumb into the divot above Steve's top lip.

“Would you like to come today?” he said.

 _God, yes_. “Can I?”

“Yeah, you can -- I can’t touch you, but you can touch yourself.”

“Thank you, Sir,” he said, quickly unzipping himself. He’d got hard in sessions before, but never like this -- it hadn’t been real sexual desire, just a physical response to the sensations, and he’d never felt this intense need to do anything about it. This was totally different. He felt desperate, already. He licked his hand, thinking about how Sir's fingers had just been there, in his mouth.

“Can you touch me?" he asked as he reached down for himself. "I know, not there, but --”

“How’s this?” Sir put his hand back in Steve’s hair, tightened his fingers a little. 

Steve made a soft noise, shuffled forward, and buried his face in Sir’s stomach, breathing in the scent of him beneath the wool, clean and masculine. He shifted to give himself room.

“Oh, you’re hard,” he realized. That was new, he thought. In their other sessions, Master had worn much more tight-fitting outfits, and yet Steve had never noticed him get hard before. Now he was close enough that he could feel it for himself.

“Of course I am. You should see yourself. You’re gorgeous. I can’t wait to get home. You know what I’m gonna do?”

Steve shook his head, although he could guess where this was going. He wanted to hear.

“I’m gonna strip this suit off, gonna think about this while I touch myself.”

“Oh, God,” Steve breathed, squeezing the head of his cock.

"Think about your mouth on me. You know you have a beautiful mouth?"

Steve shook his head, more out of embarrassment than denial. Perhaps not quite embarrassment -- more like an intense bashfulness that somehow heightened his pleasure.

"Hey," said Sir, stroking his hair lightly, "you want me to stop talking?"

"God, no. Tell me what you'd do to me. If we were allowed."

"Other than have you suck my cock? Would you like me to fuck you?"

Steve nodded fervently.

"How would you want me to do it? Bend you over the desk, push your face up against the wood? You want me to take you hard while you call me 'Sir'?"

Steve made a noise that was not a word, but it was definitely enthusiastic assent.

"Or do you want me to take you home with me? Fuck you slowly, kiss you?" He brushed a finger over Steve's lips, so gentle it was barely a touch, but leaving a tingling path that made Steve want to chase it.

"I don't know," said Steve honestly. "Both, I want to do both."

"Yeah," said Sir. "Me too." He grabbed Steve's free hand, the one that wasn't moving on his own cock, and put it against the hard line of his erection. "You feel what you're doing to me? You're driving me crazy." His voice was different now, harsher, breathless, and his hand was tight on Steve's wrist, fingers digging into the soft skin there.

Steve gasped in surprise, his cock jerking in his hand... and shooting onto the leg of Sir's impeccable suit. "Oh, shit," he said, slumping forwards. He didn't have far to go, Sir's body still blocking his path to the floor.

"God, sorry, did I hurt you?" said Master -- fully out of character now. He drew Steve's hand away and examined the wrist carefully.

Steve laughed. "You've hurt me worse than that before."

"Yeah, but only on purpose. I hope that doesn't bruise, it'll show..."

"It's really fine," said Steve, still catching his breath. "That was amazing."

"Yeah?" said Master, stroking his wrist carefully before letting it go. It felt nice. Maybe Steve could ask for that, next time.

"Yeah, it was -- I know this was different from what we normally do. I wasn't sure it was going to work, but it was perfect. You always know exactly --" he shook his head, suddenly embarrassed. He pulled himself to his feet, a little shaky. "Hey, is it weird if I ask for a hug?"

"Definitely not the weirdest thing I've been asked for," said Master.

**

Steve stayed behind to clean up, as he usually did, but Master seemed a little distracted, more so than usual.

“Listen," he said at last, "I know I told you the first time we did this that we don’t give any discounts for helping out --”

“I know. That’s not why I offered.”

“No, I know, I was just gonna say -- maybe we could figure something out after all. I just -- I know this place is expensive.”

Steve frowned. It was true, he wouldn’t be able to afford to do this regularly on the money he made from his civilian job at SR (although he had no complaints there), but he got a SHIELD packet too -- and aside from this, his tastes weren’t all that expensive. Well, apart from his bike. But he got by just fine.

“What? No, I don’t need any discounts.”

“Well… you don’t have tip so much, you know? I don’t do this because I’m hard up. If that’s what you thought."

“Well, I’m glad about that, but the tip is to show appreciation.”

“I know. Thanks.” Master rubbed the back of his neck, his hand dipping under the edge of the hood.

“Are my clothes looking really cheap today or something?” Steve asked, only half-joking. He really had no idea where this was coming from.

“No, no,” said Master, although Steve thought he caught him glancing down at his own suit, which was probably worth ten times anything Steve had on -- or perhaps slightly less, since Steve had come on it. Whoops. “Forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

"Anyway," said Steve, trying for a joke, "you'll need the extra money to get that suit dry cleaned. Sorry about that."

Master laughed -- a nice laugh. "Or maybe I'll start a fashion. Do this with all my suits."

Steve wondered what other suits he had. Maybe they could keep doing this? He'd meant for it to be a one-off, and to go back to the spanking afterwards -- it kept him feeling calm, grounded, which he needed, and which was not exactly what this had done. He felt _good_ , though. Could he even combine the two? Have Sir spank him? He wasn't sure that would work, but they could try it. There were so many things they could try.

**Author's Note:**

> I reblog Tony photosets here: http://shiningredandgold.tumblr.com/


End file.
